


Conflict of Interest

by Spaghetti13



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, mentions of dirk/jake - Freeform, mentions of jane/jake, mentions of jane/roxy, written before dirks explanation about the future so slight au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaghetti13/pseuds/Spaghetti13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Heeeey Strider.” She slurs jokingly, scooting over to the side of the bed. You get the hint and take a seat beside her. She bumps her shoulder against yours good-naturedly and you give her a slight nod.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflict of Interest

You stand under the shower, letting the warmth and the spray wash over your shoulders, letting the pounding water massage the stiffness out of your back. Thoughts race and whir through your mind, lost amongst the running water. This – standing still under the spray of the shower and letting everything run down the rain – is oddly therapeutic. It’s a rare chance for you to just let go of reality, and just be. It’s the one chance you have to forget about all of the problems that seem to plague your daily life.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you vaguely realize that you should probably get out of the shower now before all of the hot water runs out. But the rhythmic feeling of the water on your back is addicting, to say nothing of the blissful oblivion you find yourself drowning in.

The nagging feeling grows stronger and you sigh, regretfully turning off the water, pulling back the curtain, and steeling yourself for the blast of cold air as you step out. Well, the cold air you expect is actually not cold at all, just marginally colder than the water in the shower.

You pause, staring at the mirror across from you. It is completely fogged over, and you feel a small smile quirking up the corners of your lips. You are glad, especially now, that all you can see is a blur of heat-tinted pink flesh. Contrary to what might very well be popular belief, you strongly dislike seeing your reflection, particularly without your signature sunglasses. Shaking your head slightly, you slip a baggy green shirt over your head (lips quirking up again at the funny blurred shape the new colour creates in the mirror) and pull on a pair of equally baggy beige pyjama pants. Reaching over to the counter, you snatch up a pair of pointy black sunglasses and, pausing briefly to wipe away the residual steam from the lenses, set them gently on your face.

One last glance at the slowly clearing mirror and you make your way out into your bedroom. The figure sitting on the bed stops you in your tracks, a brief look of shock flitting through your eyes. She gives you a lopsided smile and a sloppy wave. You sigh mentally, preparing yourself to deal with this new intruder into your personal routine.

“Heeeey Strider.” She slurs jokingly, scooting over to the side of the bed. You get the hint and take a seat beside her. She bumps her shoulder against yours good-naturedly and you give her a slight nod.

“Sup. What brings you here?” You know that there has to be a reason for your friend’s presence in your house, in your room, sitting quietly on your bed. She wouldn’t just hop across town for a quick chat, no matter how inebriated she might be.

She sighs and dips her head away from your veiled gaze. “It’s Jane.”

She doesn’t sound tipsy for once, something that you are thankful for. If she decides to show up in your house to talk about one of your best friends, and her current conflict-of-interest, it is probably in both of your best interests that she is completely and one hundred percent sober.

Plus, you are definitely not up for dealing with a drunk and emotional Roxy.

Speaking of Roxy, she finally continues speaking.

“I just…I don’t know what to do about her. I mean…I want to help her with the whole Jake thing but I also want to help you, and I just want her to realize…” She stops as her sentence trails off and quickly glances up, eyes flickering around the spanse of your sunglasses, trying to meet your eyes.

Ah yes. The ‘whole Jake thing’.

Roxy’s eyes meet yours and you look to the side. She shoots you an apologetic grin and you shrug. She knows that this has the potential to hit a whole hell of a lot of nerves for you. You don’t mind though, at least not right now. Your brief look into Roxy’s eyes has shown you just how much pain is hidden there. You push your hesitation away for the moment, knowing that she needs you to listen.


End file.
